The Pasts Present
by Quills and Scrolls
Summary: Time travel: Apparently being rescued from a top-secret government society's facility is a lot harder than it looks. Go figure. When someone unexpected enters the fray, the life of Chloe Sullivan is about to get a whole lot more complicated.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Smallville; _it is without prejudice property of The WB (2001–06), The CW (2006–11), Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, _DC Comics, _Alfred Gough, Miles Millar_, __Tollin/Robbins Productions__Warner Bros. Television__. _I own nothing I merely borrowing a group of fascinating characters. I will return them relatively unscathed…well I return them anyway. No money is made from this and no infringement of copyright is intended. This will be removed if contacted. This story is not for monetary gain but purely for enjoyment purposes. I claim no ownership with exception to my own original characters and ideas. All recognizable characters are not mine, merely my own creations. Nor do I own the _Phillies_ just a fan. I own nothing I merely borrowing a group of fascinating characters. I will return them relatively unscathed…well I return them anyway. No money is made from this and no infringement of copyright is intended. This will be removed if contacted. This story is not for monetary gain but purely for enjoyment purposes. I claim no ownership with exception to my own original characters and ideas.

Pairings: Chloe/Clark, Lois/Oliver ( eventual undertones).

A/N: Set AU Season 9 before and after _Checkmate_,

Summary: Apparently being rescued from a top-secret government society's facility is a lot harder than it looks. Go figure. When someone unexpected enters the fray, the life of Chloe Sullivan is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

The Past's Present

Chapter One:

"I'm showing external power breach. Am I clear to shoot? Over..."

Chloe Sullivan glared back. Even gaged she lifted her chin jutted up stubbornly, an action that- if he had been there- would make General Sam Lane glow with pride. In the five years, since she had been blocking for Clark Kent, somewhere along the lines Chloe had changed; gone, was the girl with big dream of golden globes and _Tiffany_ lamps. In her place was Watchtower the eyes and ears of a band of super heroes dedicated to ridding society of the Lex Luthor's of the world. So naturally, danger was always a part of her daily life and had been since ninth grade. Now instead of just Clark, she had an army of heroes behind her. Every day from the seclusion of the tower, Big Sister watched. Danger however still found her every time she stepped out of her fortress. Most recently, it had been Davis Bloom and his obsession with her and his plea to flee with him. She had done so, for one reason and one reason only, she would do anything to protect Clark Kent no matter what it cost her. Chloe Sullivan had promised his secret would never leave her lips. A promise she had silently made to every hero she ever met.

This was why; she started down the barrel of a gun unflinchingly. Chloe was expendable; there would always be another Watchtower, but first she had to ensure the safety of the tower mainframe. As long as she drew breath, the government would never get their slimy paws on her merry band of Misfits.

A wave of determination flared through her, hazel green eyes snapping from the barrel of the gun to her assassin. Icy blue eyes met hers, and for one brief moment, Chloe believed she saw hesitation. His finger twitched on the trigger. Her eyes narrowed, if Checkmate thought this was their ticket to the tower and the heroes that called the base home, they were sadly mistaken. Oliver, Dinah, Bart, and maybe even Clark would not rest until Checkmate was nothing but smoldering rubble.

"Good-bye, Watchtower." Then he squeezed the trigger. It seemed this time; Clark was too late if he even looked for her at all. With a flash of brilliant blue light, Chloe Sullivan was gone.

….

One moment she was staring down the barrel of a gun, sure that her heroes would never find her, and she would become another casualty in the oncoming war. Now she was soaring up an over the spires of the ancient castle that had been her prison safely, or at least she hoped. Enclosed in a small shimmering blue orb, she floated harmlessly away from Checkmate Headquarters. Dark landscapes bleeding from inky blackness into bright bejeweled cities shimmering with life just over the cresting mountains. Chloe released a sobbing hysterical laugh, which if she hadn't just been rescued from a gun wielding government agent, would have made her fear for her sanity. Now suspended high above the world she could not help but think, she had either been saved by a new and valuable ally, or she just made yet another formidable enemy with the powers to match. The bubble put on a surprising burst of speed, reminiscent of the few times Chloe had traveled on the Kent Express; this however was a much smoother ride.

She gulped, while Chloe had never been afraid of heights she was usually surrounded by more than a delicate bubble of _Wintergreen _chewinggum.

"Okay, breathe Sullivan…you've been in far worse situations than this. Just because none spring to mind, just means you're in shock…yeah let's go with that."

Her orb swayed soothingly on the breeze as it speeded for the stars.

She screamed, drawing her knees to her chin and digging her nails into her ankles, desperate for anything to grasp onto.

"God, why does this stuff only happen to me?" she growled, irritated and allowed herself a moment of angry reflection. "Does this ever happen to Lois or Lana? Did they get possessed by a failed alien robot experiment gone Machiavellian? Get forced into a marriage they couldn't remember agreeing to? Become a vessel? Did they try to run away with a murdering beast to protect Clark? Noooo, only to Chloe."

Rage burned in her belly, after everything she had been through, it was her that Clark pushed to the sidelines. She who had become a villain in her best friend's eyes. All she had done, from kryptonite weapons to sequestering herself in a self-imposed hell to protect the world from Davis. Clark hadn't understood. Oliver turned against her believing she was hiding Davis for her own selfish desires. They hadn't understood, and she hated herself for being surprised. As much as she wanted to hate them for their hypocrisy, she couldn't and she doubted there would ever come a time when she would. Their lack of trust in her stung like a bitch, but at the end of the day she trusted them to do the right thing. So until the day she would be granted that trust she would be in her tower, doing what little she could to protect the heroes that protected the world.

Her eyes flickered open, gazing down at the world below. Despite her fear, inured feelings, and burning anger, Chloe couldn't help but be in awe. Flying high over cities, with a bird's eye view of the lives of the people below.

Poetic really.

Ever since she had taken full time to Isis and Watchtower by night, she had become the bird's eye. Hacking government databases and guiding her charges through labyrinth like tunnels in the quest to protect the world.

Chloe's stomach gave a twisting jerk, as she climbed even higher in the midnight sky.

"Fuck!" she screamed, as a lumbering 747 roared into view.

Powerless to do anything to change her trajectory, she watched as the hulking metal bird speed toward her.

"No, Oh God, up! Go up! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" she squealed, slapping at the bubble and bouncing up and down on her knees, as if that would force her up and clear of the plane. Despite her efforts, they proved fruitless as the shimmering side of her enclosure bounded off the nose of the plane-unseen by the two yawning pilots- and up and onto the top like pinball, bouncing and spinning wildly along the metal top. With one final bounce, she was sent spinning off to the side; Chloe groaned her stomach flipping with the quick successive spins.

For a moment, Chloe hovered over the left wing, gazing into a first class cabin window at a small snoring elderly man; his face pressed disturbingly again the Plexiglas, a trickle of drool winding down the window. A blast of turbulence-finally- knocked her lose, sending her rocketing off to the east.

Sitting cross legged on the floor of the sphere, her palms pressed against the side, she couldn't fight the gnawing free that bit at her stomach. Down below, somewhere, the league was searching for her and Checkmate HQ, tears burned her eyes at the thought of them walking blindly into the governments clutches, just to save her. Knowing Ollie like she did, she knew that was exactly what he was doing. What frightened her even more were his sporadic tendencies, especially after someone he cared for was threatened.

"Fear not daughter of Earth. All shall be well." A warm voice echoed, around her. She tensed-her back ramrod straight- being in the precarious situation did little to inspire trust. On the other hand, however, that arm soothing voice-while foreign- was somehow familiar.

"Look, I appreciate the save of mystical and powerful Oz. But if you don't mind Scotty, I'd like to be beamed down now. Preferably in Metropolis or even Smallville, I'm not picky. I have people looking for me! I need to get back, they could be in trouble."

The translucent surface of the bubble flickered. She froze, breath stealing from her lungs.

Hey- Hey! What are ya doing!" she demanded franticly, the last thing she needed was to free fall from this height. Even with Clark's ability to jump tall buildings in a single bound, she doubted he'd be able to catch her before she became a goo filled crater. It flickered around her once more, before a very welcome sight appeared all around her.

Clark.

"Clark!" she called desperately, the Clark swimming before her on the unearthly surface, showed no sign of hearing her.

"_I must say, I liked your colors better when they were more patriotic." The woman Chloe was sure was the White Queen, drawled from the encroaching shadows of the dimly light room._

Chloe grudgingly had to admit the evil queen had a point.

"Kidnapping is illegal. Even for the government." He spat from the shadows, shifting closer toward the blazing amber flames in hearth, and the only source of light in the room.

Chloe growled. "What the hell are you doing! Don't show her that handsome mug of yours. She's a government slug Kent. It's not a photo-shoot for _Seventeen_ magazine, you don't need candle light highlighting those chiseled cheekbones."

"I don't have time for polite requests. I have reason to believe there are aliens among us. They have designs much bigger than just getting green cards. I need your help." The woman stepped forward into the gentle glow. Her dark eyes blank with indifference.

"To do what? Chase down rumors and UFO stories?"

"What if I have proof? Actual alien blood? The keystone to World War III."

Chloe nearly swallowed her tongue.

"Fuck." She whispered the corner of her eye twitched nervously and she bounced around uneasily. How could she not have known this? How could this, of all things elude her? She was willing to bet one of the Kandorians had gotten careless. Big shock there._  
><em>

"_Maybe these aliens aren't here to start a war."  
><em>

"Yeah, right. They just want to stick around for the satellite TV and all you can eat buffets."

_"If you don't stand with us, you stand against us. It's time for you to pick a side. Maybe this will help your indecisiveness." The screen on the wall flickered to life; there in the drab white room handcuffed, gaged and staring down the barrel of a gun, Chloe saw her own image. The com beeped and the White Queen gazed smugly into the shadows._

"Stand ready for immediate orders."

"Best of luck with that. I'm now a guest of the _Star Ship Enterprise._" Chloe snapped back waspishly, regardless of the fact the only ones that could hear her, was her own ears and an eavesdropping AI. 

" Let her go." Clark growled, Chloe jumped slightly. She had only ever heard that particular tone when he played with little red rocks. Chloe was oddly flattered and immensely concerned when Clark got like this he got sloppy and self-sacrificing.

"I'm not being unreasonable. If you step forward, out of the shadows, I will let Watchtower go."

"Don't do it Hanzel, Grettle isn't available to pull your ass out of the witches oven."

"Release her now." He stepped out of the shadows.

"Oh you Big Dumb Alien, you never fucking listen! I'm not even there ET! Christ, have I taught you nothing! You can't save the one and condemn the many."Chloe ranted, her arms flailing about in anger.

"You sure are nice to look at. But I like to have my cake and eat it too. Mm. I want your loyalty to Checkmate. Nuh! Anything happens to me and bye-bye, Blondie. I know you're fast. But you can't stop a bullet when you don't know where she is."

"Oh good, poke the supper powered bear with a kryptonite stick." Chloe grumbled, unable to watch her head fell into her hands. 

"That would be murder."

"Very good Boy Scout. Why don't you recite her the Bill of Rights now too." Her grumbles garbled by her hands.

The White Queen scoffed. "It's not murder. It's strategy. Something you could have used more of before coming here."

_The queens black eyes, gazed smugly at the chess set in the center of the room. Then looked back to the Blur with an abundance of arrogance. She had only seen that expression look natural on the face of Lionel and Lex._

"What more do you want?" he asked aggressively, his arms stretching out drawing even more attention to the house of El symbol on his broad chest.

"The location of Watchtower's central database." Her highness drawled, demurely crossing her arms across her chest.

Chloe groaned, so help her God she would skin him alive him if he played fast and loose with her database.

"You're after everyone who's ever worked at Watchtower."

Chloe sighed. "You know, whoever you are- you might really want to work with him on deciphering the obvious."

Her lip twitched in amusement when she caught a light musical chuckle. 

"Names, faces, addresses. The Black Canary, Impulse, Aquaman, Cyborg. I need people with the abilities to end the war quickly and decisively. It's your move." The queen shrugged her face a blank mask but deep down Chloe had no doubt the bitch was enjoying this.

Having played many games of chess with the General, Chloe knew the slight methodical gleam in the White Queen's eyes right before she took the King. Powerless she prayed for a miracle.

"_Even if I gave you Watchtower's database, you know I'll come for you." His angry voice bounced off the walls surrounding her._

"And maybe teach him the finer points of chess." She moaned, pathetically.

"I am merely and AI, Chloe Sullivan not a miracle worker."  
>Chloe giggled slightly. She really hoped this AI was friend not foe.<br>_"The Blur. He patrols the streets of Metropolis, protecting every citizen he can. But he, he lets the most valuable ally fend for herself." The hefty mocha skinned woman, drawled smugly. A delighted vicious smirk ticked at her the corner of the older woman's lip. _

_"I did not abandon her." Clark snapped angrily, a twinge of amber flickering in his oceanic eyes. _Chloe snorted, crossing her arms over her breasts.

_"Didn't you? You left your greatest asset vulnerable. All you have to do to save her life is give one simple address."_ _The Queen taunted, her eyes burning like embers. A loud wailing blare, made the expression of victory fall into one of angry cruelty._

_"Come in, White Queen. Come in, White Queen." The voice of a guard broke the impasse._  
>Chloe grinned in spite of herself as she watched a slight look of concentration and she knew he was listening for her captures. Then he was gone in a blur.<br>_  
>"I'm showing external power breach. Am I clear to shoot? Over." <em>

Then the picture dissolved, leaving her gazing out the translucent side and out over the night sky. All around her thick nimbus clouds lazed passed.

"Hey! What are you doing?" she demanded her head swiveling from side to side searching for the images. She needed to know what had happened to Clark, was he okay? He didn't stick around after her disappearance. The White Queen didn't strike her as a gracious loser and she wanted Clark and her heroes as far away from Checkmate as possible.

"Peace child, my son has returned from the Castle. Your friends are safe, for now." The voice finished grimily.

"Clark." Chloe whispered in spite of herself. Clark had come for her, whether it is for Lois' or the League's sake, he had still come for her.

Whoa wait a second.

His son!

"Jor-El?" Chloe's voice was sharp with thinly veiled contempt. "I have had the displeasure of meeting Jor-El and you are not him. He is cruel, viciously so."

The voice sighed, warily. "Yes, you have met the AI within the Fortress, but you and I have never had the privilege."

"Then who did I supposedly meet?" Chloe demanded, disbelievingly. "Zod? Live and in charge from the Phantom Zone."

"No," the voice was ominous as the thunder. "Not Zod, but Zor-El my own flesh, that has assumed leadership of the fortress. Seeking nothing more than to destroy Kal-El and through him to fulfill his whims of absolute domination, and sub planted a… I believe you would call it a backdoor, that he could access at will. For years he has imprisoned me inside my own inventions. Enjoying my suffering of being so near to my dear Kal-El and unable to speak a word of guidance."

Chloe's brow crinkled in suspicion. "Then how can you rescue me? Speak to me?"

The warm voice chuckled. "Ah, now I see why son values you so. Long have I awaited this meeting, with the woman my son trusts over all others."

Chloe snorted. "Valued, past tense."

"Yes, I am sorry to say. Kal-El has pulled away from you. As much as I wish it Zor-El's influence on him as his new fascination with drab colors not befitting his house." The last part was spoken dryly, and Chloe could not help but wish this was the true Jor-El.

"Zor-El? Kara's father, right? Or did you have some other megalomaniacal relation I've yet to hear of."

"Yes, my own brother had betrayed and is now endangering the destiny of my son."

She rolled her eyes.

Seriously.

This shit could only happen to her.

"Tell me how you can talk to me now. Explain it to me."

"It has taken me years to conclude his methods in invading the crystals, and now that I have, I have now resumed control, but I fear Zor-El will soon send me back to my prison."

"Why should I believe you? Why would Zor- El, AI or not, wipe his own daughter's memories and powers? Leaving her completely vulnerable and at the mercy of a Luthor? "

Jor-El-much to her surprise- grunted. "Zor-El wished to sever the relationship between Kara and Kal-El. His plot never came to fruition; never did he expect it would untie them further against a common enemy."

"The Fortress." Chloe nodded absently to herself. Anxiously twining a lock of short golden hair around her fingers, she bit her lip.

"Correct, but so like my dearest brother, his hubris has hindered his knowledge and he never discovered the full potential that resides in Kal-El's fortress."

"Oh so it does more than flash freeze and imprison those against their will?" She gripped snidely.

"Quite," he answered dryly. "Ever since the discovery of the haven in the north, I have been capable of tapping into satellites, radio waves, and even cell phone towers. I learned everything I could on the current state of the world, my son's surrogate world."

"And what did you find?"

"Many things, but most of all the need for those like the Red-Blue Blur and the Green Arrow. I also found I am fond of great American television sitcoms, _Seinfeld_ and _Gossip Girl._ The Upper east side is truly diabolical."

Chloe snorted. Of all things to give an alien AI pause it was a show dedicated to teenage girls. Go figure.

"I have also watched those, important in Kal-El's life."

One brief moment and then creepy.

Peachy.

Her bubble gave a sharp jerk, as it rose higher. The glints of the lights below were soon absorbed by thick gray nimbus clouds. Brilliant red sparks flashed off the buoyant surface and fell down toward the earth like a rain of fireworks. With sickening certainty, Chloe knew she had just broken through the atmosphere.

"Peace," The voice spoke soothingly. "You are safe Chloe Sullivan; the sphere shall protect you until we reach our destination."

Chloe's hazel eyes burned brightly with furry. "Where the hell are you taking meeeeeeee?"

Her angry question ended in a squeal of terror, as the sphere with one final tremor she was in the pitch blackness of space. She gasped, her eyes widening as she gazed out at the untainted beauty of the moon. Burning brightly, like shimmering molten silver lava, was the North Star.

"With your consent, I shall take you train."

Chloe looked up startled. "Train! Train for what?"

"I have seen the downward spiral that Kal-El has chosen. With the knowledge of his heritage and how to eradicate Zor-El's presence, you could guide him. Much like you have done since your days at the Torch. Always there waiting, waiting for the moment he would need your assistance. Only now you must right the wrongs before they begin to corrupt."

Chloe scowled. "You make me sound like a stalker. Very flattering."

Jor-El ignored her sarcasm.

"Chloe Sullivan, Daughter of Earth will you accept the mantel of the Vrai l'Un."

"The what now? Care to translate I took Italian in High School."

"The translation means little, will you accept. Will you help save my son? Help him fulfill his destiny."

"How do I know I can trust you? I've met many an enemy who could take on other's appearances, heat sucking vampires, chainsaw wielding telepaths. Pretending to be a kind and fatherly Jor-El, while out there, is not the strangest thing I've seen today."

"I have no way to prove my intentions, I can only ask for a blind leap of faith."

She fell silent.

"I…I" she stammered, warring with the doubt of her suspicious nature and something else that seemed to be fighting to believe.

"A war is coming, and it will paint the streets of Metropolis. Thousands will be a risk, time is of the essence, and I must have your choice, now."

…

"Enter the chamber," Jor-El's voice was soft and soothing.

Standing beneath unnaturally large overlapping crystals of varying hues of blue and whites, Chloe gnawed nervously at her bottom lip. Worried hazel eyes gazed into a small chamber barely wider than her high school locker, which appeared to be a perfectly carved elongated tube of pure milky white ice, a fine yellow mist swirling up from the floor. Gulping, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and lifted her foot to march into the tunnel like a good solider. However she had forgotten she was in a fortress of…well ice. Chloe slipped and slid her sneakers useless in gaining traction on the smooth frozen glassy surface.

Panting, Chloe crawled to the chamber entrance, using the rounding curves of the portal to pull herself clumsily to her feet. Her weight now firmly back on her sneakers, taking a deep breath she stepped warily into the mist.

"We shall now begin. The first part of your trials shall be the easiest. Never, daughter of Earth- Vrai l'Un- forget that to secure the future we must correct the present, to change the present, one must first change the past. The duty shall be yours and yours alone. One final time I will ask this…will you now and always be Le vrai un de Kal-El?"

Chloe licked her lips, she knew, even without Jor-El 2.0's insight that a war was coming. The U.S Government vs. Heroes everywhere and then when everything seemed so bleak the Kandorians would make their final move. It would be a bitter and bloody battle and in the end the only loser would be humanity. How many would needlessly be killed while those that had sworn to protect them were fighting for their own lives. Oliver, AC, Dinah, Victor, Bart, Courtney, Carter, and Clark, even Lois and Martha would not stand idly by. They'd all be in danger each fighting to be the solution the world needed, and one by one they would fall. Be it to a bloody end at the hands of the government, super powered Kandorians, or into madness and soul splitting guilt. Fall they would and she couldn't let that happen.

"Alright Yoda, let's see if I'm smarter than a fifth grader." She grinned slightly, leaning back against the sold ice tube.

"I shall take that as a yes, then? Very well Vrai l'Un, we shall begin." Jor-El remarked dryly, and the mist began to rise, swirling around her like a funnel cloud. Slowly it began to solidify, taking on the same texture and sheen as her protective puff the magic dragon bubble. Much like the bubble that had given a bird's eye view into Checkmate HQ, the screen flickered and a warm face smiled serenely back at her. Mussed wheat colored hair tickled the brow of a handsome face, twin stone of aquamarine gazed into hers, a strong stubborn jaw-one she was well acquainted with- and the same full supple lips she had gazed at although high school.

"Greeting Vrai l'Un, to begin your journey we shall begin at the beginning. Krypton."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Past's Present

Pairings: Chloe/Clark, Martha/Jonathan

Rating: R- NC-17 

Spoilers: AU Jitters and onward. 

Summary: Apparently being rescued from a top-secret government society's facility is a lot harder than it looks. Go figure. When someone unexpected enters the fray, the life of Chloe Sullivan is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Pasts Present

Chapter Two:

Journey to the Past

Weightlessly suspended, her eyes open and glazed in a near catatonic state, Chloe was unsure how long she had spent, alone and frozen in her ice chamber. Millions of Kryptonian symbols flashed across her dilated pupils, effortlessly flowing into her brain, etching forever into her memory. In the hours, days, or even months she had spent in the chamber she had learned of things she had never even dreamed of before. She had seen the luminous crystal adorned planet of Krypton and the blazing ruby sun, before it had ultimately been reduced to bits of meteor rock scattered across Lowell County. Learned everything from the planets agriculture, politics, justice system, and science; she had even learned the nutritional value of Krypton's largest export- a large purple pumpkin like vegetable. Spent what felt like days on the complicated science of the crystals, and Zor-El's poisonous corruption. Chloe studied the long dead languages of Mars, Krypton, Saturn, and Earth. Next came the Kawatche people, and how true to ancient legend they truly, were descendants of Krypton a fact she knew teenage Clark had hoped was fact. She had learned of the other Kryptonians that had, like Jor-El, also come to earth. Ever the over achieving race, they had built the great pyramids in Egypt, helped lay the stones of the Great Wall in China, were responsible for the impressionistic art movement in France, and their largest contribution to the world by far…the discovery of coffee in Guatemala.

Much to her surprise and pleasure she had also learned of hidden heroes. In Themyscira (a society of Amazonian women) waited a woman that could soar to new heights- quite literally, a billionaire Bat in Gotham, a web slinging Spider in New York, and a cocky Lantern wielding, jet pilot in Coast City.

The film loop of heroes, playing across her eyes faded back to the solemn face of Jor-El. His blue eyes were troubled; his face distorted, pulling and flickering for a moment.

"We have reached the end of your training, Vrai l'Un. And not a moment too soon…I…f…fea...fear…" Suddenly stuttering, the picture jumped and finally with a rush of static Jor-El disappeared.

With a gasp, Chloe was flung harshly back to reality. Her body released suddenly from its weightless suspension and she barely was able to brace her back against the solid ice wall.

"Jor-El?" Chloe called worriedly, as she gingerly exited the chamber and carefully wobbled precariously across the ice floor. All around her the columns of crystal flashed an inky black, then a violent blinding yellow. Like and acid induced, psychedelic light show the quick flashes of light disoriented her for a moment. Thanking her lucky stars she was not truly affected by the epilepsy inducing flashes, she began to inch her way along the ice, leaping unsteadily to small patches of fallen snow, for traction. When all this was over she was going to demand Clark laid some carpet in his fortress, an Olympic ice skater she wasn't. Even as a kid ice had been the enemy, she had been one of the few children banned from the Metropolis rink because she was hazardous to other patrons. After all the shit she had gone through in since freshman year of high school Clark Kent owe her at least a carpet runner.

The light show continued, and Chloe knew it for what it was. A violent power struggle between two brothers, for dominance and only one could reign supreme. Very Cain and Able really, as a good little Irish Catholic who had spent every Sunday of her pre-teen youth in Sunday school. She could not help but draw parallels.

"Come on Jor-El, don't give up." Chloe whispered as she shimmied, skidded, and slid across the floor. Chloe sighed as she made it to another small snow drift and with one final precarious leap; she landed roughly on the elevated platform, her knee slamming into the bottom of the consul. Gritting her teeth, Chloe used the base for leverage and hoisted herself to her feet. Dusting off her frozen fingers, she stood there for a moment, eyes soaking in the placement of the flickering alien crystals. Tongue poking out the corner of her mouth she set to work, hands red and trembling, removing and rearranging crystals. Tossing the blackened alien minerals away, over her shoulder. Chloe was oblivious as the discarded technology cracked against the unyielding surface of the iced floors and walls, whistling across the ice and disappearing into the dark recesses of the Fortress.

With quick flicks of her wrists, the flickering lights began to slow, the encroaching blackness seeping away leaving only blazing molten yellow gold. How long she worked, she was unsure, slipping into a deep haze of concentration. Pulling the final crystal she frisbeeing it away, Chloe smiled triumphantly when the lights stopped flickering, staying that healthy golden yellow.

"Jor-El?" with bated breath, she called out hesitantly.

"I am here Vrai l'Un, but we must move quickly..." She exhaled, the hazy tendrils of foggy breath floated way. Chloe's relief however was short lived.

"Zor-El will soon break free of his prison and everything will have been for naught. Take the bracelet from the podium, child."

Chloe's brows furrowed, and her eyes scanned the, now placid, consul. She was about to open her mouth to protest that there was no bracelet, when with a flash of yellow and purple light a thick silver bracelet appeared, on a perfect cushion of snowy white velvet trimmed in small dangling blue and red kryptonian crystals. Hesitantly she studied the bracelet on the table. The large triangular stone resembling turquois-but in reality was a Kryptonian semi-precious gem called Shera- seemed to thrum with energy, glowing under the golden beams of the fortress. The stone was set in two thin twining bands of Rulgi- a rare and priceless Kryptonian ore- centuries old and it still looked as if it was crafted only days ago. The pads of her fingertips brushed the freezing metal and she jumped back in surprise when it vibrated softly against the pillow, emanating a low hazy red mist. Transfixed, her nervous eyes watched the alien artifact with trepidation. Ever since the fortress's grand opening, on the day of her high school graduation she and Clark had been bitten in the ass one corrupted artifact after another.

On another, more primitive level, all she wished to do was to reach out and lift the jewelry from its pillow. It was hers now, somewhere deep down she knew that, and she wanted it forever on her wrist. For the first time in a long time, this was something of Clark's that was hers and hers alone, and she refused to share it. Startled by the feelings of possessiveness she back away quickly, teetering precariously on the edge of the podium, and nearly tumbling off in her haste to get away.

"Peace," Jor-El spoke calmly, almost lovingly. "For the bracelet of the Vrai l'Un, shall react as such when it has found its chosen, the one for whom it was crafted for. There is one and only one, the bracelet is now yours. Claim your destiny, my daughter."

Chloe blinked, her eyes suddenly wet. With each passing moment in the presence of Jor-El she was growing to care for him. So much like the shy and unassuming Clark that she had known through High school. He was now the father she had always imagined, placing his infant son inside a ship to save him from the same fate as his people. This was Jor-El, the one that would have guided his son much like Jonathan Kent had.

Slowly her fingers curled around the jewelry, and it vibrated- purring with almost feline contentment against her palm.

"What do I do?" Chloe questioned, there had to be more to it than just slipping it on, some kind of Kryptonian incantation or something.

This time when Jor-El spoke it was in the sharp grunting syllables of Kryptonian.

"Chloe, daughter of Lane and Sullivan, long have I awaited this moment. You now need only the blessing of the father of Kal-El to seal the bond, and I shall give it with happiness and love. It is every parents dream to know their child is loved with such fiery passion and devotion. I claim you now Chloe Sullivan, forever to me you shall be a true member of the noble house of El. Until you are named according to tradition, I shall call you Hope."

The bracelet floated from her numbing fingers, and slowly ghosted over the prickling flesh of her hand and settled on her left wrist. Lifting her hand she watched as silver and gem began to melt, slowly sinking into the pale flesh of her wrist. Her mouth dropped open in surprise and she lifted her hand till her glowing wrist was level with her bulging eyes.

"Ugh!" she cried out as a wave of scorching heat burned through her wrist and down to her fingertips. Fire lapped at her nerves, send jolt after jolt of acidic pain flowing through her arm. She and pain were well acquainted, being thrown out of third floor windows, experimented on, healing wounds, pain was an old friend. Just when she believed the pain couldn't get any worse, a blinding flash of red, blue, and gold exploded out from her wrist. Turing her hand over she watched in awe as the glowing light burned a path into the smooth skin of her wrist, just below the heel of her hand marking her forever. The glowing red light traced a large diamond shape as the blue and gold swirled together into a figure eight in the center. A crest she would know anywhere, the Blur. The crest of the house of El, forever marking her with the thick black lines of the crest, of her promise. Absently she traced the brand. The thick black lines tingled slightly at her touch, and she shivered. The most startling difference came to her attention; she felt that familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach. One that had been a constant presence in her life since she had learned to control her meteor power, before Brainiac had played with her mind. Her power was back, and her stomach lurched in distress. With everything that was now on her plate, her meteor power was back and it terrified her.

"Welcome home, Hope the true Vrai l'Un." Jor-El whispered softly, with more emotion then Chloe believed possible of an AI.

"Ugh thanks." She shifted, embarrassed and desperate to continue, desperate to forget about her renewed powers. "Ugh what's next?"

"Only one thing remains, to return to when all began to skew, and change what can be changed. Remove the crystal, Vrai l'Un."

Chloe turned back to the snowy crystal consul, where hundreds of jagged white crystals resided. There in the center of the board, nestled between the two largest crystals, glowed a small pink crystal. With trembling fingers, she cast one more glace around the fortress and silently vowed to never allow Zor-El one moment of power. A powerful gust of wind tore through her body, and she shivered. Small flakes of snow began to swirl around her ankles and she knew, Zor-El would soon free himself.

"Take it now!" Jor-El's voice boomed, and without thought she pulled the pink crystal from its slot and dropped it into the long tube.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" the fortress rattled under the force of the demonic scream. The sheltering ice crystals trembled, small spider web crack forming in the center, and racing outward.

"Give my love to him Vrai l'Un." Then with a flash of pink light, the frozen tundra of the north melted away.

…..

"Chloe!"

"Chlo, crap what the hell dude? She was fine a second ago!"

She groaned, her head gave a violent throb as reality began to encroach upon her senses. Her brow crinkled, and her lips drew down into a sour frown.

"Guh," she grunted, she knew she should keep her eyes closed. If the line of Irish step dancers stomping at the base of her skull were anything to go by, she knew that if she moved to soon they would quickly turn into angry screeching baboons.

"What seems to be the problem here boys?" The old croaking tone and the nauseating smell of BO and cheap bourbon meant it could be Madge, the old bus driver that had lived in Smallville since the conclusion of the Civil War. Chloe whimpered slightly, the smell burning at her nostrils and she scooted back against the warm thigh propping her head up.

"We don't know! She was fine a second ago and then she just fainted! Oh man!"

Chloe knew that voice; it had been ages since she heard it. Only Pete Ross could have a full diva freak out without the slightest provocation. Suddenly she tensed, if Pete was still in Smallville…she went back a lot further than she had expected.

"I think she's coming too."

Clark Kent, ladies and gents- master of the obvious.

"Nice observation, Sherlock. I'll make a reporter out of you yet." She snipped, falling into her age old backup in high school. Sarcasm.

Cracking an eye open, she moaned as bright morning sunlight assaulted her retinas, a shadow moved into her vision blocking out the blazing sun. Clark Kent, his face twisted into a concerned frown. His face was no longer the full face of a man in his twenties. Vibrant blue eyes gazed concernedly into her own, it seemed like a lifetime since 'her Clark' had looked at her like that. Hell it felt like a lifetime since she had been this teenage girl, so far she couldn't remember what had then made her tick, besides her all-consuming love for an emotionally stunted alien. Keeping her face, bland and confused, behind her eyes her mind was working at the speed of sound. How was she supposed to become a girl that still had dreams and ideals, when all she was- was a jaded older version of her faded self. Only adding to her growing headache was she had no idea what year it was, or how the hell she was going to sell this realistically. While her face remained impassive, internally she was terrified. So many doubts ran through her mind: What if she screwed up? What did she change and what did she leave alone? Could changing something she shouldn't lead to disaster? How in hell could she fool her two best friends?

So many questions, so little answers. Jor-El would be unavailable for comment for quite some time yet, if Pete still called Smallville home. Then there was also the problem that the fortress would not be fully functional until she eradicated Zor-El's corruptions completely.

Chloe barely stifled as gasp. Speaking of a Zor-El, what about Kara? She was still stuck in the damn and there was no way she could rescue her without super powered help. Now however was not the time to drive herself in to a cell at Belle Reeve, right now she needed to get to the Torch and re-group. Until she could search her archives, she just needed to blend in and well when in doubt, sarcasm was her friend.

"You just gonna stand there and look pretty, Kent? Or are ya gonna help her up?" Madge questioned, fluffing her frizzy orange hair. Pete snickered, which quickly gave way to a coughing fit when Mad-Madge scowled darkly at the teen. Above her Clark flushed to the color of a beet root, and gently pushed her shoulders up and stood. With a groan Chloe accepted Pete's hand to pull herself up, only to squeak when Clark easily lifted her off the dirt path.

"Whoa, little warning next time would be great Tarzan."

Clark's blush darkened, as he brushed dirt off her shoulders and back. Gripping her elbow, as if without the support she would swoon once more, and his hand crept downward. She tensed as his hand moved south, it was then Clark seemed to realize just where his hand was heading and whipped away like she burned him.

Chloe snorted, casting a coy teasing smile over her shoulder. Oh this was going to be fun, in the future Clark rarely blushed and she had missed that tell-tell red flush. If she was going to be stuck here, there was no rule about her having a little fun.

"Alright, everyone's up. Now get your as*ses on the bus. My Nicorette patch is wearing off and I've got hot flashes that'll make a penguin sweat." Lumbering away in her too tight Smallville High Track Team sweats she climbed into the bus.

Following obediently behind like puppies. Chloe snickered at Pete and Clark's wide eyed fear of the menopausal bus driver.

Climbing onto the bus she followed her two best friends down the narrow isle. A few cheerleaders snickered and pointed at her as she passed, no doubt by homeroom her fainting spell would be all over the school and with Lucy Mendoza on the bus she'd be labeled as 'Preggers' by lunch. Pete slipped into the seat by the back emergency exit, allowing Chloe and Clark to share the one in front of his. Clark gripped her arm and, like a worried mother hen, helped her slide into the seat by the window.

"Kent!" Madge grunted, and Clark's face flamed as he collapsed next to her on the bench seat.

Patting his shoulder consolingly she frowned. "Ugh, what were we talking about, again?"

"Chloe!" Clark scolded weakly, his earnest eyes ticking worriedly over her for signs of harm. Chloe smiled whimsically it had been so long since she had seen that expression on the face of 'The Blur'. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah girl, what was with the Sleeping Beauty act?" Chloe grinned slightly, and gazed out the window as the bus rumbled down the dirt road. God had she missed Pete.

"Oh," she waved her hand dismissively. "I skipped breakfast, and had three mochas last night for dinner."

Clark sighed and shook his head, producing an apple from the pocket of his backpack. "Contrary to your belief coffee is not a food group. Eat."

Insistently he thrust the apple toward her. Chloe fought the urge to cry, she had forgotten just how sweet this Clark was, with his pleading puppy dog eyes and joyful smile. This was Clark Kent naive and untainted by bitterness or Lana, as much as she loved Lana like a sister Lana and Clark were poison to each other. Both to all consumed by a romance that was always doomed to fail. Chloe, having had a front seat on the rollercoaster ride that was 'Clana' she vowed to talk some sense into both parties.

Taking the apple she rolled her eyes and leaned against the bus window, lost in a whirlwind of mixed emotions.

"You're not eating." Clark's voice pointed out, with a gentle prod to the ribs. Rolling her eyes she lifted the apple to her lips and made a show of taking a large bite from the farm fresh fruit. Juice dribble down her chin and Pete snorted in laughter, while Clark reached over and wiped off her chin with the sleeve of his red flannel shirt.

"Smooth, Clark." Pete drawled condescendingly.

"Not bad, Kent. I give charm factor of a solid 7.0, but it's the technique that'll kill 'ya, I give a disastrous 2.5. Word from the wise no girl appreciates their faces whipped with flannel." Chloe snarked, whipping her stick chin with her fingers. Clark stammered slightly, and slouched down in his chair.

"Now, can someone please remind me what we were talking about?" Chloe demanded, taking another bite from her apple when Clark had pointedly stared at her. She was touched by her friends worry, she really was but first thing was first she need to figure out where the f*ck she was.

Pete sat forward his hands rubbing Clark's shoulders. "My boy Clark here is throwing a p-a-r-t-y."

"Oh Christ." She gasped; she had gone back to FRESHMAN year! Out of the corner of her eye she noticed her farmer friend gaping at her. Clark looked at her as if she just suggested he strip naked and dance for her. Quickly realizing her mistake she smiled coyly and batted her eyelashes. "Well my-my-my Mr. Kent aren't we just full of surprises, I never thought you had it in you."

Clark looked slightly hurt, and she silently cursed herself for forgetting just how fragile he was to her teasing back...well now.

"Hey!" he cried out. "I do so have it in me, well obliviously since I suggested it."

Chloe arched a blonde brow. "And just how much of the courage you gained, from discovering your newly descended balls is in trying to impress, Lana?"

"Chloe!" Clark gasped, scandalized and his face flaming red. Behind them Pete howled, clutching at his stomach and falling back into his seat.

Oops, she might have delved into her more adult humor than she had meant to. Desperate to escape the bulging eyes incredulous stare, she turned back to her apple and decided to steer the conversation to a safer topic.

"So you boys coming by to help me with the Torch?"

Pete who was still giggling with laughter, nodded.

Clark tugged, at the collar of his shirt flustered. "Yeah, I can stop by after lunch."

She was saved from further awkward conversation, as the bus pulled up to the school. Nearly vaulting over Clark she was off the bus in a flash and running toward the Torch, her satchel swinging like a bludgeon behind her. She needed to study up, and she had little time to do it.


	3. Chapter 3A

Title: The Past's Present

Pairings: Eventual Chlark, some Chloe/AC, and Lois/Oliver

Rating: R- NC-17

Summary: Apparently being rescued from a top-secret government society's facility is a lot harder than it looks. Go figure. When someone unexpected enters the fray, the life of Chloe Sullivan is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Chapter Three:

A Serious Case of the Jitters

Luthor Corp Fertilizer Plant 3

Chloe winced slightly, the same familiar tingle of fear danced down her spine—the same one she felt the first time Earl Jenkins had held a gun to her father's head. This time however, seemed worse—maybe it was the fact this was not a mere memory or dream about an event that happened years ago and everyone had escaped relatively unscathed. Maybe it was the simple fact that she had only just gotten her father back, especially after a yearlong absence since he was last able to visit. After all hadn't she practically run out of eighth period and directed Pete to put the paper to bed—a statement that had made both Clark and Pete look at her strangely. Upon arriving home she had –much to her surprise—found some actual food not passed the expiration date and was able to surprise him with a healthy and edible meal, a feat she could not claim her first time through her teen years.

The whole weekend—only leaving Friday night to attend Clark's party that was worse the second time through—had been spent dedicated to father-daughter bonding over a Bruce Willis and Harrison Ford marathon. From eleven in the morning the longest either had moved from the couch, was for quick bathroom breaks and when the take out arrived. When Chloe had brought up a weekend of family fun, he had been so thrilled; he had spent the night of Clark's party picking up movies and junk food—even driving all the way to her favorite bakery in Metropolis to pick up her favorite chocolate cheese cake just for the occasion.

All too soon Monday dawned, the day of the LuthorCorp fieldtrip—turned hostage situation—and Gabe Sullivan was in rare form. While selfishly, Chloe was going to try to talk her father into a much needed day off something she had been hinting at all weekend- and even going as far as spiking his coco with a laxative. Everything she had done, had been a bust and come Monday morning -she knew after one look at her giddy father humming the Temptations 'My Girl' into his coffee cup—she knew the only thing she would succeed in was hurting his feelings. Nothing short of a stampeded of raging hippos would stop him from going in today.

This was why she was now living through the worst case of déjà vu.

"I swear, I don't know anything about Level Three." Her father protested, his hands gripping the armrest of his chair, hard enough his knuckles turned white.

"You're lying!" Earl snarled, and Chloe convulsively tightened her grip on her knees. Wedged between Whitney Fordman and Pete, she rocked back and forth trying to sooth her frazzled nerves. It wasn't until she saw, Earl's face contort in rage that she knew she had to step in.

"He's not lying." She spoke up, sternly.

"Sullivan, have you gone stupid?"

_Whitney_

"Chlo!"

_Pete_

"Princess,"

_Her father._

Chloe ignored them all and easily got to her feet. Mentally she cursed herself, when her knees wobbled slightly. If this had just been her, she would have been cool and calm…after all this wasn't the first time she was a hostage. It was the fact that her father and her friends were there, and if Edward Lorenz was correct everything had changed the moment she had breached the time barrier. Having spent so much time with Victor and his love for all things science, Chloe had become well acquainted with the complex theories of Chaos Theory, or the Butterfly Effect. If that theory held water, she was fuc*ed. Holding her palms outward in a placating gesture, she took a small step forward. Earl growled and swung away from her father, his gun now resting on the back of her father's chair.

"Don't lie for them! Luthor knows…you'll see he knows." Earl whispered softly, lifting his gun hand and gesturing wildly with the fire arm. Chloe jumped slightly when she felt a warm hand curl around her ankle, the strong grip keeping her in place.

"I'm not lying for them. I am the last person that would lie to protect a Luthor. Trust me." She grumbled out the last part, before she locked eyes with him and plowed on. "You said, you went to this Level Three? How did you get there?"

Chloe shifted uncomfortably, feeling her father's angry eyes burning into her skull, she was really not looking forward to the lecture that was bound to follow this.

Earl nodded grimily, his eyes troubled and down cast. Sorrow seemed to radiate off his body in palpable waves, and in that moment she felt her hate for the Luthor name grow a little more. Even though Earl's problems stemmed from the elder Luthor, who one day she hoped would once again defect from the side of darkness, she hated the man he had been…and the mad scientist his son would become. Chloe tried to shuffle forward, she knew all too well the fear Earl lived with and she ached to comfort him in some small way. The hand on her ankle tightened its grip—she tried to shake him off and when she failed she glared down at the blonde quarterback.

"Knock it off, Sullivan. You're going to get yourself killed." He hissed up at her, tugging sharply on her ankle and making her stumble back a step.

Earl, however, remained oblivious and gazed pitifully at her, before shoving her father away. Chloe sighed in relief as he father's chair rolled away from the desperate man.

"Every night, I go down to level two…" he shook the battered Glock about in his ire.

"…I follow the red pipes down that long hallway, I go to the door, I open it, and I take the elevator down to Level Three!" Earl was no longer the broken man he had been only seconds before. He was now in a full outrage.

"No, you don't Earl." Clark spoke up, waving rolled up—wrinkled—blue prints at the glaring man, as if they were proof of something. "I found the blueprints, there is no Level Three."

Clark walked forward, unrolling the schematics across the desk; her father had been thrown into. Clark looked up at the older man, his blue eyes pleading silently with his old friend. "There is no level three, on the blue prints. How could you go to a place that doesn't exist?"

Earl gazed back at him, betrayal burning in his dark blood shot eyes. With quick strides he was across the room and gripping Clark by his flannel shirt. "You're just like everybody else. Now you get over there, and sit down!"

Clark grimaced, when Earl forced him backwards nearly toppling over. Still standing, Chloe yanked her ankle free with one sharp tug and grasped her best friend by the arm and pulled him toward the wall.

"You," Earl pointed the gun at Chloe.

"Leave her alone! You leave my daughter alone!" Gabe leapt up from his seat, his normally twinkling blue eyes narrowing at his captor, a silent promise giving his words grim promise. The gun drooped slightly.

"Sit back down and I won't harm a hair on her head." Earl assured her father, or tried to at least. Her dad had never known square one of fighting, a definite point of contention between him and the General, but he did know he was not capable of taking down a man Earl Jenkins' size. With a menacing scowl, Gabe lowered himself back into his seat.

"You, believe me." Earl concluded, his deep onyx eyes locking on her green ones, desperately pleading with her. Chloe laughed humorously, and shook her blonde head and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I know better than to trust a Luthor…so yes, I believe it's, possible."

He eyed her speculatively, circling her—taking in every nuance of her appearance from the top of her blonde head to her scuffed sneakers –searching for any sign of deception.

"And what would a child know, of Lionel Luthor?"

Chloe scowled, jutting her chin out stubbornly, she glared coolly at him. Oh if only she could tell him of all the dirty laundry she had uncovered on the original Prince of Darkness, it would make this ordeal seem like a picnic in the park. She couldn't however, at least not without earning herself a Thorazine drip and an all-expenses paid trip to Belle Reeve.

"I don't need to be Little Red Riding Hood, to know the Big Bad Wolf when I see him." A slight quiver at the corner of Earl's lips made her purse her lips in frustration. It sucked being a twenty-three year old, trapped inside her fourteen year old body. Life just wasn't fair.

Chloe nearly gave an undignified squeak when the shrill ring of the desk phone echoed around the 'mission control' room. A few students jumped, and Lana gave an undignified squeal. Still watching Earl like an angry jaguar, her father leaned forward and lifted the phone from the cradle.

Her father sighed, holding out the receiver. "Lionel Luthor."

Earl scowled, finally glancing away from Chloe and stepping away.

"Speaker," He ordered curtly, and began pacing by the computer hub. "Mr. Luthor, I've finally got your attention, haven't I?"

With Earl distracted, she was grabbed from behind. A strong arm winding around her waist and lifting her off her feet. Chloe tensed slightly—a habit born of one t many abductions- and would have screamed in surprise if a big meaty hand hadn't clasped over her mouth. On instinct she almost bit down on the hand that silenced her. Thankfully she hadn't-when the strong scent of pine, sandalwood, and hay tickled her nostrils-all she would have done is crack her teeth. With a petulant grunt, she didn't fight as Clark pulled her to the floor—not that it would even matter if she had—and pulled her until she was seated between his big body and the computer console. With a slow turn of her head, she glared mutinously at her agitated friend. One look at her seething, narrowed eyes and he nearly reared back into Whitney in surprise.

In the back of her mind, she could hear her conscience nagging at her that this Clark, was not the Clark she was truly angry with. No, her ire lay with the shell of the teenage boy before her—the one that saw her as nothing more than an unwanted link to his past and a more efficient search engine than Google. This Clark still held on to that naïve, but heartwarming belief that all people were capable of good. It had been so long since she had last seen that boy that, it had been easier to tell herself he had never existed at all. Sometimes it was the only thing that got her through the clinical professionalism that suffocated her, with his every visit to Watchtower.

"_Earl, why don't you come out? We've got a lot to talk about."_ Lionel's forced tone of civility, caused her blood to run cold. It had been the same tone he had always addressed her with, on the surface it was almost pleasant but if you scratched the surface the grim promise was abundantly clear. Chloe shivered slightly, it had been so long since she had heard this particular voice. After Lionel had become a vessel to Jor-El he had changed, become a decent and good man. A feat she had never believed him capable of before—or that could have been his attempt to turn her into mince meeting talking—and she found herself missing the man he would become.

She growled softly in her throat, and offered Clark an apologetic smile. Hoping to sooth the sting, her actions had caused—but it seemed she was always being caught unaware these past few days. Not surprising really, since people who had been nothing but faded memories were popping out of the wood work. Or the small fact that the Chloe Sullivan that Clark, Pete, and even her father knew had long since packed up and fled. Life had kicked her ass for the past few years, delivering one dream crushing blow after another and she couldn't help but react to every situation with determination of watchtower. After all watchtower was her future- and confusingly her past as well—and no matter how much she knew she should try to fall into the idealistic dreamer again…she just couldn't. Not again, because she would lose the Planet in the end.

"Just tell me what you were using down on Level 3." Earl's rumbling demand caused her to jump slightly and scold herself for once again falling into an internal monologue.

Lionel's patronizing tone made her cringe. "You're sick Earl. Let everyone go. We'll get you help."

"Condescending bastard." Chloe muttered softly, and scowled when Clark elbowed her nearly knocking her over.

"_Chloe_!" he hissed, blue eyes narrowing as he frowned down at her.

"No!" Chloe screamed slightly, as the man's big body began to shake violently, and watched in horror as he grasped onto the methane line. Shit, how could she have forgotten that!

"Earl!" Clark leapt to his feet, his body blurring slightly, and she cursed again. Struggling up to her feet and dodging Whitney as he attempted to grab her once again. It was useless however, and the blonde—that nearly caused her to swallow her tongue in surprise this morning—succeeded in pulling her back down.

"Clark, don't!" she snapped, but it was too late…with a violent jolt and the screeching of ripping metal, Clark caught the metal wheel on the chin, sending him flying backwards.

"Clark!" Lana shrieked, scrambling over toward the downed teenager. Pete and Whitney scampered over as well—the latter releasing his death grip on her bicep and allowing her to crawl to her stunned friend. Her right hand fell instinctively to his jaw, easily playing the part of the concerned friend, While her left hand rubbed absently over his chest. It wasn't until he tensed, and she saw the tell tale blush burning across his cheekbones, did she realize just what she was doing. Rolling her eyes, Chloe glanced over at Lana to see the other, girl staring at her hand looking as if she had just bit into a lemon.

And to think she had thought herself finally free of the Clana tilter-whirl.

"Oh no. See what you made me do? See what you made me... See what you made me do?" Earl whispered as he paced the room, the handle of the gun pressing into his face as he rubbed his head. Finally he gazed up into the camera and hissed. "See what you made me do? Your methane gas-valve just broke. The whole place is gonna go up."

"We need to do something." Whitney spoke up, glancing over his shoulder, tracking Earl's cagey movements. Even without futuristic knowledge, she could see Whitney was at the end of a fraying rope.

Chloe scowled up at the quarterback. "And just how would that be a good idea? Do you want to get shot?"

The teen glared at her and jerked his head toward their capture. "That man's nuts. He's not listening to the cops and that methane gas is gonna blow."

Lana paled, glancing sharply between the warring blondes, before laying a soothing hand on his bicep, and gazing at him with those imploring doe eyes.

Whitney shook his head. "I'm not putting my life in that man's hands. Two of us can take him. How about it, Clark?"

Chloe could see the torment clearly in those puppy dog eyes and took pity on him. "Absolutely not, have you seen him…he's on the edge don't give him a reason to kill us. One spark from the muzzle flash and this place could go up like a roman candle."

Her whispered words however, had no effect and the jock-strap still gazed questioningly at Clark, but Clark looked away-ashamed. "I—I can't."

"It's okay. Whitney."

Today it seemed the compelling allure that seemed to reel men in to do her bidding, it was on the fritz today.

Chloe snorted softly, drawing a questioning glance from Lana and Clark.

Figures.

Chloe groaned softly, as Whitney pulled away from his trembling girlfriend and slowly advanced on the oblivious man.

"Luthor, I trusted you. You told me you were trying to help people." Ranting at the camera, Earl had been oblivious to Whitney's less than stealthy approach.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

With a roar, Whitney slapped at the gun, knocking from the large man's grasp, the heavy metal slammed into the ground. Chloe tensed slightly, she had been around guns long enough to know if Earl had been stupid enough to disengage the safety—a hit like that could possibly discharge the chambered round. Luck however had never been friend to Chloe Sullivan.

With a deafening crack, the gun fired. Beneath her palm she felt the smallest twitch of Clark's muscles, he was about to go into super speed in front of their entire science class, and no excuses of adrenalin was going to suffice. Lionel and Lex, as well as horde of SWAT were watching them on the security cameras. She'd be dammed if she was going to let Clark blow five years of her hard work to save Lana from stupidly following after Whitney. With a diving tackle that would have made the General proud, she leapt the short distance over Clark's legs and tackled the brunette to the ground.

Lana's squeal of surprise gave way to a grunt, as her ribs collided with the cement floor. Lying shield like over her friend, Chloe felt slight wet tickling on the back of her right arm. The scent of cooper flowing up to her nostrils. Rearing up on her knees, she ignored Lana's slightly mutinous glare, and reached back with her hand and hissed.

Pain.

Whit hot flames of agony lapped at the small sensitive nerves and she whimpered. "Oh you have got to be shitting me."

"Chloe!" she heard Clark yell, only seconds before a burning pain flared hotly through her bicep. Still huddled in front of her Lana gasped her brown eyes flaring widely.

"Princess!"

Chloe groaned slightly.

That's right dad, just keep piling on the embarrassment.

Across the room, just over Lana's shoulder Earl easily kicked Whitney away.

Chloe grunted, this could only happen to her.


End file.
